Help Me
by Lady Of The Violins
Summary: We all know that Alan has this 'little problem', formerly known as the Thorns of Death. And Eric seems to show interest into him (maybe, possibly). What will happen? I suck at summaries, but please read and review nonetheless.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, guys! I tried a new couple, as you can see. I was in a drama mood and...well, Eric and Alan just call for Drama, huh? That's why I wrote this. There will be two parts, this is the first one. (You: Noooo, reaaally? Me: Yup, ehe)**

**Enjoy!**

Help me: Part One

Alan Humphries assorted the things on his desk and placed his pens at the side of his table next to each other. From the corner of his eye he always watched his colleague Eric Slingby, whose desk was a terrible mess. He had his feet on his it and chewed on a pen.  
"Hey, Alan! What does 'to jump' mean in Latin? It has six letters"  
The brunette looked at him fully, a bit surprised.  
"Salire. Are you...doing a crossword?!"  
"Yup!", Eric answered and wrote the word into the gap.  
"Never thought you'd like that..."  
"I don't. But it's still better than working."

The blonde chuckled at his own words and thought about a vegetable with nine letters, when William T. Spears, their boss suddenly came into the room.  
"Slingby! How many times have I told you that you're here to work!", he said with a cold expression. Eric sighed, took his legs off the table and started to work, muttering something under his breath.  
Alan couldn't hold back a small smile at that. He heard Eric cursing all the time, the bunch of paper in front of his nose getting even bigger if possible.  
After a time Alan finished his own work and stood up to walk to Eric's desk.  
"Let me do that for you", he said lowly and took a good three quarters of the bunch off the desk. The blonde's eyes widened.  
"You really wanna do that for me?!"  
"You need help or you sit here for days."  
"Wow, thank you! How can I make that up again?"  
"There's no need", Alan answered shyly and took the papers to his own desk, where he started to fill them out. His colleague stared at him in disbelief, then smiled widely.  
He blushed a bit and kept on working in silence, not seeing the big, knowing grin on Grell's face, who sat at the other end of the room.

When he was finally done he stretched and stood up, Eric set his pen down in the same second.  
The brunette already wanted to leave, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
"Hey, Alan!"  
"Um...yes?"  
"I wanted to thank you again for the help. And um..."  
"He scratched his neck.  
"I wanted to invite you for dinner. As a thank you."  
"Oh, um...of course!", Alan answered, a smile spreading on his face as he felt his heart beating faster.  
"Good! I'll get you at seven, okay?"  
"Alright. See you then."  
"Yes, see you."  
Alan turned around and left their office, suddenly in a very good mood. He had never dared to hope that Eric would ever ask him out. Plus there was this...problem. But...was this really a date? Or did he mean just a nice meeting with a pal to drink in a bar? Well, he would find out soon enough.

In his flat Alan took a quick shower and opened his dresser, searching for a suitable outfit. He decided for a plain white button down, looked at the scar on his neck in the mirror and buttoned it up all the way, so it couldn't be seen. Then he put on jeans and styled his hair.  
Was the way he looked now okay? Or was he too overdressed? He ruffled a bit through his hair. Uh, now he looked like he had just stood up. He combed his hair again and looked at himself in the mirror. Then at the clock on the wall. Five more minutes, it was too late for a drastic outfit change, so he just stroke over his shirt to straighten it and cleared his throat.  
"You can do this, Alan! It's just a date! Maybe! Possibly! Unlikely! But you can still make it!"

He heard a knock on the door and made a small nervous jump. Another stroke over his shirt and he walked to the door.  
When he suddenly felt a terrible pain in his guts. Oh no. Not now!  
Alan fell on his knees and bent over in pain, coughing heavily. He felt drops of sweat forming on his forehead as he kept on coughing.  
Another knock.  
He tried to stand up or at least shout that he needed a moment, but another wave of pain hit him. It felt like acid was flowing through his veins and slowly spreading in his whole body. He knew what would come next, after the 'acid', and he didn't look forward to this at all.  
The brunette pushed his head against the carpet on the ground.  
With a sharp pain the skin on his arm opened, like an invisible knife cut him. Dark red blood started to soak the sleeve of his shirt.  
A third knock.  
"I'm sorry", Alan whispered weekly as he coughed again, spewing blood.  
"Alan? Are you there?", he could hear Eric shout from the other side of the door, although he was still not able to stand up or at least show Eric that he was there and alive. More or less.

After a few minutes Alan could hear steps that slowly got weaker. Eric was going away. He had ruined his only chance.  
When he stood up weakly and supported himself on the wall, he was covered in blood.

"Damn", he muttered silently as he wiped over his face and walked to the bathroom to get a cloth. He cleaned his face and washed the blood out of his shirt before it could dry. Then he leaned against the sink weekly.

This was it. His chance to get a bit closer to Eric. And there had it flown away. This stupid illness!

"Why me!", he half shouted half cried.

"Why always me..." Now it was a full cry, as tears were streaming down his cheeks.

Alan looked down at himself, he had two new cuts; one was on his arm, he had already seen it. The other one was a smaller one across his tummy. Still, they both hurt damn much. He took tweezers and pushed them into the open wound, hissing at the pain, and with a small _ping_ a thorn landed on the sink.

"Your fault, you stupid things! You ruin everything!", he said desperately and pulled more thorns out of the wound. After that he poured alcohol and a cloth and pressed it against the wounds, hissing at the suddenly doubling pain.

When he came into the office the next morning, he kept his head lowered in shame. For a few minutes he had even thought about calling William and telling him that he was ill and couldn't come to work today. But first there weren't many sicknesses a Shinigami could catch (Or rather none apart from the Thorns of Death. What was exactly the problem), and second he didn't want to seem weak. Or weaker than he already was. So he had dressed like every other day and come to work as if there was nothing. As if there weren't the thorns in his veins that could cause an attack every second...

Eric was already sitting at his desk – punctual for once – and tapped a pen against the table. Alan walked to his own place quietly and sat down – unfortunately it was next to Eric's. Well, not really unfortunately. At least not until today.

"Alan!", he said, the tone of his voice fathomless. _Please don't be angry with me_, the brunette thought and looked up shyly. Eric...didn't look angry. Rather disappointed. What was kind of even worse.

"Y-Yes?"

"Where _were_ you yesterday?!"

"I...um I was i-ill."

"Ill? So suddenly? And you couldn't call me?" Alan knew that he didn't believe him. And he couldn't even blame him, he was rambling like he had to make up a story fastly. What was the truth somehow.

"No it...it came really sudden. I'm sorry, Eric. I really am."

"Of course." Now he sounded a bit hurt. The other male wanted to ask him if they could...repeat the 'date' or whatever it should have been, but he couldn't find the courage to do so. That's why he just sat down and ignored Eric's stare.

Next to his paper work was a list with names today. What meant field work. He had never liked field work, he was more one for paper work and staying in a peaceful office. But since...the attacks had started he hated it. He was even weaker than before and Cinematic Records where sometimes rather...resistible. What would happen if he ever had an attack when he wanted to collect a soul? He didn't want to think about that.

_Well, it has to be done_, he thought, sighting, and grabbed his Death Scythe. Eric did the same.

"What are you doing?", he asked confused.

"Doing field work with you? Will put us up together, didn't you read it?"

Alan looked at the list with the names in his hands. There it was. 'Field work for Alan Humphries and Eric Slingby'.

The day got worse with every second. It would probably become the most terrible field work ever, collecting souls surrounded by an embarrassing silence.

They walked to the place where the first human was supposed to die; an old woman, heart attack. At least not a child today, they were the most terrible ones.

The old woman appeared, bags with food in her hands. She walked down the street with heavy steps. Usually Alan would have offered her his help, but for obvious reasons this was useless. Suddenly the woman fell on her knees and bend over, breathing heavily.

Alan's eyes widened. He knew this so well...

Eric jumped off the house they were standing on and landed behind the woman. With a smooth swung of his Death Scythe he cut her neck and freed the Cinematic Records that started to flow out of her bode and wavered around her.

The other Shinigami was still frozen in shock, as this seemed so familiar to him. Only until now nobody had come to cut his neck and collect his soul.

"Will ya help me?", Eric shouted. This made Alan remember where he was and he jumped down too to help Eric collect her soul, which went much quicker as usual, because Alan didn't have to do it alone.

"Good teamwork", he said half-heartedly, but the other one didn't answer.

"Eric, I already told you I was sorry! I really was sick."

"Yeah, yeah. When you don't wanna meet me just say it the next time, huh? It's okay for me, but simply not opening the door is mean. Never would have thought you would be like that...", he said and turned around to walk to the next place of death, which wasn't far away.

Alan felt a pain in his heart at that. And then, out of nowhere he felt another pain. Again. He squeezed his eyes shut as his vision started to blur and fell down, already beginning to cough.

Eric was already about sixty feet away when he realized that the other one wasn't following him. He turned around, a bit annoyed.

"Are you hurt now? It's just true, I-"

His eyes widened when he saw the small, feminine man lying on the ground, shaking in pain. Within a second he was with him again and looked at him in shock.

"A-Alan? What...what's wrong?"

He got no answer, Alan just laid there and bend over in pain. He coughed and blood ran down his chin. Eric's eyes widened even more. What was wrong with him?!

He knelt down next to him and touched Alan's arm gently. As he got no reaction, he laid his arms around the other one, crossed his own legs and pulled him into his lap, not caring about the blood that was smeared on his clothes. By the way, blood...the fabric of the brunette's shirt turned red at his left shoulder, side and chest.

Not knowing what else to do, he simply held him carefully and stroked his dark hair in a comforting way. He felt really guilty.

_Alan is ill. And I didn't believe him. I thought he he didn't want to meet me and wasn't brave enough to tell me. I'm so terrible! I just insulted him and accused him of being mean... _

Very slowly the small figure in his slap stopped coughing and finally he simply laid there, head rested on Eric's knee, who still stroked his head carefully.

"Alan", he whispered gently.

"Are you feeling better now?" He received a small nod. Then Alan lifted his head up slowly and slid off his lap to stand up with shaky legs. The other one laid an arm around his waist immediately to support him.

"N-No. It's okay. I c-can walk alone."

"You can't. I'll bring you home, no discussion."

Alan wanted to object, but he felt his knees buckle and nearly fell down again; that's why he nodded weakly and leaned into Eric, who lifted him up bridal style.

"Hey!"

"Shut up, sweetheart", Eric muttered and pressed him close to his chest.

_Did he just...call me sweetheart?!_, Alan thought flabbergasted. Then he realized that he didn't find it _that_ bad. In fact it sounded quite good.

Eric carried him to his flat fastly but gently, received the key by the other man and opened the door.

"Now I finally come to see your flat", he said with a crooked smile and sat Alan down on the couch. Then he sat down next to him and looked at the living room. It was rather modern and pretty – and of course perfectly tidied up.

"Nice flat."

"Um...thank you."

"Do you want tea? And before you say something about me being your guest, I don't give a fu- I don't care. You should sit here and rest."

"Okay. I want tea. The water cooker is on the counter and tea is in the drawer on the left side."

"Alright. I'll be right back." Saying this he petted Alan's arm softly and went to the kitchen. Alan leaned back against the soft fabric of the couch, lids closed, and tried to relax. Now Eric knew that something was wrong. That he was a freak. Nobody would like to go on a date with a freak. Or simply be friends with one. He would just bring him the tea, say goodbye and farewell and leave.

**A nice place to make the cut, isn't it? The second part will be online in a few days. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I had this written already and then...well...I forgot to update. I bow my head in shame. I hope the end of this little ficlet makes it up. By the way, I listened to 'Cadence Of Her Last Breath' by Nightwish while writing this and I can only advice it to you! It's somehow fitting. In fact, I'm thinking about changing the name of th story into 'Cadence Of His Last Breath'. What do you think? (But don't be worried, I won't kill Alan now ^^)**

He sighed and looked at his bloody shirt. He had to remove the thorns and clean the wounds, but he didn't want to stand up now. Or ask Eric to do it, he had already done enough.

After a while Eric came back with a cup of tea. He sat down next to Alan and pushed the cup into his hand, having a really worried expression.  
Alan sipped his tea quietly and waited for Eric to leave. Only he didn't.  
"What are you still doing here?"  
"You don't think I will leave you alone now, huh?"  
"Um..."  
"My God. Do you want me to leave?"  
Alan kept silent for a few seconds. Then he whispered 'no', what caused Eric to slide a bit closer to him.  
When his cup was empty, the brunette placed it on the table in front of him and played with his fingers nervously. After a long pause Eric looked at him and his bloody shirt.  
"May I ask what happened there?", he asked softly and unusually polite.  
"Um...I..."  
"You don't have to answer me."  
"I owe you at least that. Although I don't know how to start. Okay, uh...I told you that I was sick, didn't I?"  
He received a small nod.  
"And that's true. I am sick."  
"But you're a Shinigami!"  
"Indeed. And there's one sickness we can get: The...the Thorns of Death", he answered, his voice getting lower with every word. Eric's eyes widened. He had of course heard about the thorns, but he didn't know anything about what happened to the victim. He just knew that they were deadly.  
"The..."  
"Yes."  
"And you...have them?"  
Alan nodded slightly.  
"What is happening to you?"

Usually he wouldn't like to talk about it, but Eric seemed to ask because he was really worried about him. That's why Alan leaned back a bit and told him of it.  
"There are...thorns in my veins. They spread in the body and get m-more all the time. When a few amass at the same place I...I get an attack. That's what you s-saw. Then they...they rip the skin and it looks like cuts. I have to...to cough and spit blood."  
He looked at the ground silently, terribly ashamed of his sickness and the unpleasant symptoms.

Eric didn't say anything for what felt like hours. Then he asked carefully: "And yesterday...you had an attack too?"  
Alan nodded lowly, what made the blonde feel even more guilty. He didn't believe him, although he was deathly sick. Nonetheless he wanted to be sure.  
"C-Can it be healed?"  
"No", Alan answered with a lump in his throat. He had never wanted Eric to see him like this.  
"Are you disgusted now?", he asked shyly and played with his fingers again. Eric stared at him in disbelief. Then he pulled the other one into a very soft hug. The brunette blinked a few times, but hugged him back.  
When Eric pulled away, he had the saddest expression Alan had ever seen and touched his cheek gently.  
"I'm so sorry, Alan."  
"Not your fault."  
"No, but I didn't believe you when you said you were sick. I thought you just didn't want to meet me."  
"It's okay, I wasn't very convincing."  
"Still I was an idiot...how long do you have this?"  
"Ten years."  
"Oh my God, and I never realized this. We went to school together, we did so much field work and I never noticed that something was wrong. I'm so sorry for everything."  
Alan simply nodded and leaned back, wincing at the sharp pain of the wounds, what caused Eric's heart to nearly break.  
"Can I help you somehow?"  
"Yeah, um...could you help me into the bathroom? I have to clean the wounds."

"Of course." Saying this he, he helped him up and supported his weigh. In the bathroom he sat him down on the rim of the bathtub, unsure what to do next. Alan stretched his arm and opened a drawer, from which he got alcohol, bandages and tweezers.

"Tweezers? Why do you need that?"

Without answering the other one just opened his shirt – not without blushing a bit – and looked at the new wounds on his already scarred chest. He dug the tweezers into the wound and pulled out a small thorn. Eric gasped.

"What...what is _that_?!"

"A thorn. As I said, they're in my veins and cut the skin. I pull them off the wounds." His voice was emotionless.

"Does it help?"

"There are much more spread in my body, but I can't reach them. And there always come new ones, if you mean that. But without it the wound heals faster, at least a bit."

"I see. Can I help you?"

"No, you did already enough for me. I can't even understand why you're still here, it's okay now."

_And I'm a freak. Nobody wants to talk to a freak._

"As I said before, it's _not_ okay. And I still won't leave you. Who helped you the other times when it happened?"

"No one did."

"WHAT? There was nobody there for you?!"

"I never told anyone. I didn't want to tell you either, but...yeah. I was always afraid that it would happen in public one day, and now it did. So...thank you for bringing me home."

Eric shook his head in disbelief and watched as Alan cleaned the wounds and wrapped the bandage around his chest, upper arm.

"How...how many times does it happen?", he asked lowly, although he was sure that he didn't want to know the answer.

"In the beginning once a month or so. And now...now it happens every few days, sometimes more, sometimes less." He felt his heart beating faster when Eric laid a hand on his knee gently.

"Why didn't you tell me?", the blonde asked really softly.

"I didn't want to bother you with my problems." After that he paused for a few minutes before he spoke again.

"Eric? Yesterday...was this supposed to be a...a date? Or just a nice meeting between friends?"

"That would have depended on you, but I meant my invitation as a date."

"I...I see. I would have liked a d-date. But now you surely don't want to meet me anymore..."

"What? And what is this?" He waved around. This caused a small smile on Alan's face.

"I would call it a terrible afternoon."

"Terrible? Huh...then I think we have to go on a real date to make up for this, right? And this time I'll break the door if necessary."

The other one chuckled dryly.  
"I hope this won't be necessary."

"Me neither. Um...do you want me to bring you a new shirt or so? This one is a bit dirty." A bit dirty. Yeah, you could call it like that too.

"Just help me to stand up, I can do that alone."  
"No way, you won't do that alone! You're still to weak."  
Now Alan started to get a bit annoyed.  
"I'm /always/ weak, Eric! Besides I didn't have help for ten years, then I can make it now too."  
"But for the last ten years I didn't know how sick you are. Now I know it and I won't leave you alone. So shut up and let me help you."

Without another word he lifted the smaller Shinigami up and carried him to the only room he hadn't seen yet, placing him on the bed.  
"Okay, where are your shirts?"  
"In the left dresser. Can you give me a simple black pajamas shirt?"  
Eric nodded, opened the dresser and handed him the shirt. After Alan had pulled over his shoulders he knelt down in front of him and buttoned it up.  
"I'm not a child!", he said with of embarrassment reddened cheeks.  
"I know. You're surely not."  
The blush on Alan's cheeks deepened, but he didn't say anything.  
"So...what do you want to do now?", Eric asked after a while.  
"I don't know. Read a book, rest."  
"Read a book? Uh...how boring. Aren't you hungry?"  
"Yeah, a bit."  
"Then I'll cook something for you and you can read your book."  
"You know how to cook?!"  
"Of course! I can make pancakes, pancakes and pancakes."  
Alan smiled crooked.  
"Sounds good. I think I'll take the pancakes."  
"Good choice, they're the best! Alright, I'll find everything I need. And you lay down comfortably and rest. I'll come when dinner is ready."  
"Okay. Thank you."  
"Don't worry, sweetheart."  
Alan blinked a few times when Eric turned around and left. He had called him sweetheart - again! Nobody had ever done that, so it felt kind of strange. But good too, so...loving.  
He crawled under the sheets carefully and leaned back, taking his book from the nightstand.

Half an hour later Eric came back with a tablet and sat down on the rim of the bed, placing it on Alan's knees, who sat the book down.

"Oh, you didn't need to do this. I could have come to the kitchen."

"But now I'm here. Do you want sugar and cinnamon or apple puree on your pancakes?"

"Apple puree, please. But I can eat alone, Eric, you don't have to feed me, in case you wanted to do that too."

"Naah, what a pity." He grinned cheekily and swung his legs on the bed, leaning back and crossing his arms. He watched Alan eating with a small smile, glad that he was better again. Although...still there was this sadness that surrounded him, because even if he was better for a few minutes, it could never end good.

"Wow, the pancakes are god! Would the other options have been that good too?"

"Of course! Everything I can cook is awesome. Next time I could make pancakes for you."

Alan smiled shyly. Next time. Eric really wanted to meet him again. But then again...

"Eric?", he asked suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you doing all this for me? You care for me and...and stay with me. Why is that?"

"Um...that's because..."

Alan waited patiently for an answer.

"That's because I-I like you, Alan. A lot."

The other one didn't say anything for a time

„I like you too", he then whispered barely audible, what caused a wide, stupid smile on Eric's face. He laid a hand on Alan's cheek and leaned in a bit. But the other one backed away and shook his head slightly, closing his eyes to hide the tears that wallowed in them.

"Eric...", he said desperately.

"I can't. There...there won't be a future for us. As much as I would like to be with you and as much as I hate this sickness...I will _die_, Eric. Maybe I have a whole year left, maybe just two days, I don't know. But I know that it's rather less than more. And this will never change, no matter how much I want everything to be different, that's the way it is."

He opened his eyes and the tears rolled down his cheeks. Eric stretched a hand and wiped them away carefully.

"I know, Alan. And I'm so sorry about that, I would do everything to heal it. But I can't either..."

He paused for a time.

"Can't we just take the time, no matter how much it may be, and enjoy it as much as possible?"

"We...we could try."

"See? That's better than nothing. I want to spend this time with you." _No matter how broken I will be when it ends_, he added silently, suppressing the urge to press his lips together. Or cry. What did this Alfred Tennyson say? It's better to have love and lost than to never have loved at all. Asshole. He had probably never lost anything.

Eric leaned in again and this time his lips touched Alan's very tenderly, to not scare him off. He placed a hand in his neck and stroked it gently.

When he slowly leaned back, both Shinigami had a smile on their face.

"That felt nice", Alan whispered shyly.

"Yeah. It did." Saying this, he gave the smaller one another peck.

"But you should sleep now, sweetheart. You really need your rest."

"Okay. Goodbye, Eric."

"Goodbye? You don't think I will leave you alone now, do you?! I will either sleep in this bed with you or – if you don't want that – on the couch, but I'm certainly not leaving. And fighting is useless."

Alan sighed, but nodded and slid deeper into the sheets.

"You can stay here."

"That's what I wanted to hear, babe."

He heaved himself up and removed his shirt to reveal a perfect toned chest with hard muscles. Alan's eyes widened and Eric chuckled a bit.

"You like what you see?"

"I...um..."

"Oh, you can't deny it!"

He lifted the comforter up and slid under it, grinning at Alan's still flabbergasted face and pulling him against his chest carefully.

"Sleep well, sweetheart."

"You...too."

Eric smiled again and closed his eyes, pushing his nose into Alan's soft hair.

_I love you, my sweet darling_, he thought.

_And I will do everything to find a cure for you. Everything._

**Well, that was it. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review**


End file.
